


And If You Want Me...

by homsantoft (tofsla)



Series: I Was Kidnapped by Burly Qunari Pirates! [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Casual Sex, M/M, Open Relationships, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:32:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tofsla/pseuds/homsantoft
Summary: POV-swapped scene fromI Was Kidnapped by Burly Qunari Pirates!- Bull kisses Dorian for the first time.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Missed posting this one at time of writing - AO3 was playing up, I think. Belated crosspost from tumblr.

There was an unease to being at sea, but a safety too. Nowhere to run; nowhere, provided you kept away from the cave-strewn line of the coast, to be ambushed from. The Bull had weighed it again and again, and reached a different result each time.

Close quarters was comfortable, though. Like eating together in the great mess hall in the barracks of Alam, like crowding through the halls of the Children’s Home. You knew who everyone was, you got the measure of them. Got a better grip on the guys who were at the outer edges of the company, the newcomers—and all the Vashoth were newcomers.

He’d always liked to know who he had at his back.

But how to measure Dorian Pavus?

“He can be rather delicate,” Mae said. “Oh, I don’t mean in a fight, but I expect he’s told you fifty times by now that the food is substandard and the ale unacceptable. He would.”

“Pretty sure we’re only on forty,” the Bull said.

“Then I suppose he’s managing to entertain himself tolerably. But about your Cremisius—”

Routine business, quickly concluded, leaving the Bull with himself and the shadow of Dorian.

So:

Somewhere, Dorian was probably having sex. The Bull’s bed smelled of it most nights. Smelled of Dorian all the damn time. Who would it be today? Meraad, who’d been keeping a knowing eye on the whole business, directing games, giving orders. Yeah, probably Meraad—Meraad who hadn’t shown for watch, sending Kai up instead. No big deal, lot of the guys swapped shifts all the time, but Meraad was strict with himself, usually.

Meraad would want to keep on giving orders, and if Dorian went to him it’d mean he was in a mood to be ordered. Pliant, maybe. Or straight-backed, demanding to be bent.

Later, he would be there, showing off—and the Bull would give him space in the bed, and sleep badly, and imagine.

All these bits of Dorian. Dorian, scratching furious notes and forgetting his tea so that the Bull had to catch the damn cup when the ship rolled. Dorian laughing at a shitty pun and then pretending he hadn’t. Shirt left open to show a bruise above his left collarbone. Hand on the Bull’s shoulder for balance or in offering.

That knowing little smile, one corner of his mouth, his eyes.

Power.

Fuck it.

Imagine Krem instead:

You’ve got it bad, Chief.

Yeah, thanks. I noticed.

Don’t be like you were last time.

Fuck’s sake. Fall for someone you couldn’t have once, go about it all wrong once, and never live it down.

That was years ago, and he’d been raw, and he’d thought, maybe, maybe, if he could just sort out Tua’s damn life for her then his—

Stupid idea.

You can’t fix people, she said, hand to his chest. It doesn’t work that way! I knew what I was getting into, and you—

That one had stung for a good long while. You can’t fix people?

Tell that to Par Vollen.

But they hadn’t fixed him, had they? Not in the end.

The Bull cursed, hand curling into a frustrated ball.

No, here. Breathe. Consider it.

Dorian Pavus liked to fuck—according to both his account and the murmurs between his guys, liked to do it in varied and inventive ways. But he only shared the Bull’s bed. He liked to show the Bull his bruises.

He’d clung to the Bull’s hand, that one time, with Reth’s hand tight around his dick.

Dorian Pavus liked to be held, and the Bull could do that. He liked to be entertained, and the Bull could do that. And if he wanted to be fucked into the mattress by the Bull in particular, with all those weird romantic bits, then shit, yeah, the Bull could do that.

If he wanted to be fucked by the Bull as a game, then the Bull could do that, too.

Yeah, but you probably shouldn’t, Chief.

Shut the hell up, Krem.

Down into the bed that smelled of Dorian, one of Rocky’s shitty adventure stories to be annoyed by—keep, at least in theory, his thoughts from drifting to the interesting image of Meraad’s strong exact hands shoving Dorian forward until his face was pressed to the wood of the deck.

He hadn’t actually turned a single page, hadn’t pulled himself from the quiet thud of arousal at the idea of Dorian getting fucked, hadn’t gotten his shit together in the slightest by the time Dorian came in. Wrecked and gorgeous and damn well knowing it, movements all loose and easy and eyes hazy.

“I think,” Dorian said, and his breath caught on the word, think, nothing like thought to do with it—"I think you might fuck me.“

And it would’ve been simpler if the Bull just had, wouldn’t it?

But, like an idiot, he kissed him instead.


End file.
